He does have a telephone - in the barn.
"People come here to get away from all of the gadgets," said Riehl, a bearded father of eight in straw hat and suspenders. "I keep telling them it's pretty hectic around here, too, especially during harvest. We work from sunrise to sunset, sometimes longer."
From their 18th-century roots in south-central Pennsylvania, the Amish have spread to 28 states, always on the lookout for fertile, affordable land.
Lancaster County, with 25,000 Amish, remains the cultural heart - the origin of the county's tourist industry, which, with the addition of outlet malls and wholesome stage shows, attracts 10 million to 11 million visitors a year.
Although dozens of guesthouses and B&Bs advertise themselves as "in the heart of Amish country," only a handful, if that many, are truly Amish-run.
"It's probably growing; it's just hard to make a living off agriculture," said Stephen M. Scott, of the Young Center at Elizabethtown College, which studies the history of sects such as the Amish.
More often than providing lodging, Amish work with non-Amish guesthouse owners to serve an authentic Amish meal in their homes to tourists. "There's a lot of Amish doing dinners," Riehl said.
But this non-advertised practice often is in violation of Pennsylvania laws that govern commercial food services. Lancaster-area restaurants have prodded regulators to crack down. The practice has gone underground.
Sam Stoltzfus of Gordonville, an Amish historian who also runs a machine shop, said that, within reason, the Amish enjoy mingling with non-Amish.
A meal, a room - it's all "Christian hospitality," he said.
Riehl is somewhat evangelical about the Amish lifestyle. He sees it as an example that the larger world could benefit from.
